Revisiting The Past
by CrashAngel
Summary: AU. Max struggles to unearth her past while aided by an unlikely ally. Now with his help, Max finds a lot more than expected. M/A
1. Revelations

Revelations  
  
Title: Revisiting The Past  
  
Summary: AU. In post-Pulse Seattle, Max struggles to find her father only to find a lot more than expected. Max/Alec  
  
Pairing: Max/Alec  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that appear in Dark Angel, I only own those that I've made up  
  
Rating: PG for now  
  
Spoilers: Not yet  
  
A/N: This is an AU fic where I've turned the Pulse into a nuclear bomb incident that Manticore caused. Take in mind that this is my first fic and if I've stuffed up, tell me, even if it's constructive criticism. Expect the unexpected - Crash Angel  
  
  
  
At home I wasn't aware of it being an only child void of much social interaction. That was until I entered Pre-School.  
  
The second my hand left my mother's, I knew, I was different. I observed the other children caught up in their oblivious bliss, their young selves delighted with the many facilities the school had to offer.  
  
They would chase each other round the playground and they would topple onto the floor when they were caught and they would giggle elatedly before they repeated the procedure over and over again.  
  
That was I saw, and that was when I felt left out. They possessed a somewhat childish innocence that I lacked.  
  
I remember the first day of pre-school so very distinctively even at that young age. I remember it all. I was introduced to all those other kids, faces flushed after running around. I remember eyeing them warily.  
  
Then there was that girl, with golden ringlets of hair bouncing around her ears and ruddy cheeks offering me her podgy hand, a smile lighting up her face. "Come on! Let's go to the sandpit!"  
  
I managed a weak smile but declined her hand, choosing to go without assistance, then they amused themselves by making their kingdoms and trenches while I sat on the edge of the pit, watching them as I occasionally scooped up a pile myself and let it trickle through my fingers.  
  
I had a certain brand of maturity that alienated me from the rest and I felt an emotion of loneliness swirl inside of me as I wondered the hows and whys. I felt I was missing out on that happiness, on that ignorance that seemed to be the essence of young children, caught up in their own little world, protected from the ravages of the real world.  
  
However, I was unprotected, and then again a girl like me with a broken past couldn't exactly ensure happiness. That was how it is and I thought, drenched in my misery, that things couldn't get any worse. I was wrong.  
  
The nuclear bomb hit at exactly 11am, Sunday, January, 2008. It said so on my watch.  
  
Then my alienation disappeared, a little. For it wasn't only me who was spiralling downwards, so was everyone else. That morning I was late for Pre-School and that was when it hit, surprisingly I was calm yet terrified.  
  
My mother had to go to work early in the morning everyday, the distance from home to the super-market where she worked was long and I couldn't come with her even though the super-market was near my Pre-School so my neighbour drove me there everyday. Then in the afternoon when school let out my mother could conveniently come and drive me home.  
  
I knew as well that an old military base stood nearby, used as a factory by the company Manticore, what the base was used for I didn't know. Now after turning on the television I came to grope with the revelations of the whole incident, suddenly knowing what that base was used for.  
  
The bomb had killed or affected people with radiation within a 20km radius.  
  
A feeling of nausea overwhelmed me as I switched off the TV, when I realised with a jolt that my mother was in danger, my thoughts then drifted to the Pre-school.  
  
My heart sank as I realised that the image of innocence had been shattered, the brutality of it all was too much for a five-year old like me to cope. Yet I didn't cry but I went around hurriedly to tidy the place up, in desperation, hoping that my mother would come home to see our 'pig sty' of a place, that my mother fondly called it, clean.  
  
Deep down I knew that she would never come back but I wanted to cover up my pain, my mother was all I ever had.  
  
I had cleaned the place up as well as I could, when I looked at my watch I saw 5:46 pm, flashing back at me. Cleaning had distracted me from thoughts of my mother but when I collapsed onto our sofa exhausted it all came back to me. My mother wasn't alive, I knew. It seemed so odd. I had encountered death so many times but having it happen to someone so close to me felt weird.  
  
Like an empty space that would never be filled. I looked back at the time, 5:47 pm, I suddenly realised I hadn't eaten since last night. I managed with some crackers then turned on the TV. Seattle was in an uproar.  
  
I watched wide-eyed at the horrific images captured on the screen, of piles of bodies and crumbled buildings. My stomach lurched, my mother could be in that pile.  
  
I switched channels, knowing that those images would be branded in my mind forever. A reporter stood safe in his studio, a microphone held up to his mouth.  
  
"Indeed, this has been one of the most horrifying incidents every to occur in mankind, the 'Pulse' as many know call it have left thousands dead and many affected by the heavy radiation. Manticore is responsible for this mess and the government has now taken it into account to pursue the matter. Now social workers are walking through the neighbourhood, helping those parentless, if you see a stray child phone 98745822. Gas Masks are available at-"  
  
I turned the TV off. Social Workers. My mother had told me of them. That they would take me away forever, away from her, if they ever saw me. My instincts told me to get out of here.  
  
I packed my bag, hurriedly stuffing prized possessions into the backpack.  
  
Then I left on my bike, cycling to the park. I was far from the radiation and that re-assured me. Where was I to go? What was I to do? I was only five but my childhood ended before it even began.  
  
  
  
  
  
Dedications: This is to those people that answered my questions about Dark Angel  
  
The Little Insomniac: Thanks and I mean it. You gave me a truckload of info. Don't worry, you did help. :)  
  
Lyla: I ain't so damn lazy! lol, oh well, thanks for the info and I know, I should get my lazy ass over to a fansite.  
  
Penny: Dun't worry, I do know a lot about Dark Angel and all, I just needed some certification. Thanks for the info, much appreciated and yeah I've only seen like seven eps? lol  
  
Drama Gurl: Thanx for the encouragement , I think.. Anyway, it's an AU fic but I do know the main outlines of the characters and the show, I just wanted some good old gurantees  
  
Zizzy: You rock! You really socked it to me. Thanks for the info and once again like many others of the website darkangelfan.com. Good site.  
  
ME: Woah, thanks for the information. Very, very, very happy (does a little happy-dance, passerbys start edging away)  
  
Mel: Thanks for the full barcode number, even thought it mightn't be relevant to the story I'm a DA junkie, I have to know the barcode number.  
  
Silverthorn: Alex, you were a GREAT help! (note the sarcasm)  
  
A/N: Should I continue? 


	2. Encounters of Akin

Encounters of Akin  
  
  
  
Title: Revisiting The Past  
  
Summary: AU. In post-Pulse Seattle, Max struggles to find her father only to find a lot more than expected. Max/Alec  
  
Pairing: Max/Alec  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that appear in Dark Angel, I only own those that I've made up  
  
Rating: PG for now  
  
Spoilers: Not yet  
  
Dedications: To my very first reviewers, Panda007 and CindyZ, you rock! To Brin, sorry, I didn't know my settings were set to 'not accepting anonymous reviews'. Thanks to Mel and the-little-insomniac, you guys are loyal, lol, once again thanks for the info!  
  
A/N: You're all probably going what the hell-?! I know, last chapter, very confusing. Well just to fill you in, last chapter was in Max's point of view when she was younger, as I said before the Pulse isn't an electromagnetic bomb, it's now a nuclear accident that left the city in chaos, financially and emotionally. It's a kind of twisted story and if you're confused, tell me. Don't worry, there'll be a lot more about the whole plot with Max and her 'father' and al lot more Alecness. All the same, read on- CrashAngel  
  
  
  
Even thirteen years from then, Seattle hadn't been able to get its act together. The Pulse killed thousands, affected thousands and destroyed thousands. People and buildings alike. Immediately the hospitals couldn't cope, neither could insurance companies and many other public services. They needed funding that the Government couldn't provide. Apparently Manticore had hacked into the Government systems and stolen billions to carry out the costs of creating the bomb. Why did they do it? They said it was an accident. Was it an act of terrorism? Or did it have some sort of involvement in political matters? The tabloids couldn't get enough of the stuff and for weeks journalists attempted to find a possible theory.  
  
Then everything really came down. The Government didn't have enough funds to keep the country going, after all, this didn't only affect Seattle, it affected America. The fall of stocks and the downfall of many a company affected the whole of USA. So the economical state of the country spiralled down into poverty, into a world of darkness, where people were forced to fall into corruption to retain an income.  
  
Yet through this darkness a girl grew up to be the best she could. She was born beautiful and remained so. With chocolate tresses that cascaded down past her shoulders, flawless bronzed skin, brown eyes that laughed and cried and sensuous red lips. She was intelligent, sassy and fiercely determined. She was a perfect girl. in a broken world. But even perfect girls have to try a hand at such corruption to get a living herself.  
  
Max unscrewed the last bolt before carefully placing the cover to the side.  
  
Clad in a black tank top and pants she was hardly visible against the night sky. Max adjusted the hook before she lowered herself gingerly down the hole, her cat-like flexibility helped greatly as she took care not to trigger the safety alarms on either side of her.  
  
She slid down lower until she met the object of her escapade. A large glittering diamond stood, shielded by a glass dome. Max lowered herself even further before she gently eased the laser-gun from her pocket. She turned it on and guided the laser beam around the glass on top of the diamond. Before the circle was complete Max used a suction glove on the glass she was cutting, securing it in place before she continued the procedure. Lifting the circle of glass from the dome, Max reached down to pick up the diamond when a foot connected with her shoulder.  
  
Max gave a cry of alarm and nearly dropped the diamond. She turned to stare up at her intruder but couldn't make out the person's face that hid in the shadows. Max hastily stuffed the diamond into her backpack but the intruder was persistent, a fist shot out and obstructed her arm, making the jewel tumble down onto the floor, triggering wailing and flashing red lights.  
  
Max struggled to compress her fury at the stranger; first she had to get out of here. She gathered up all her equipment and pressed a button on her belt where the rope was attached. The motor that was connected to the hook began winding her up. It was surprising what you could find on the black market.  
  
Already the intruder was doing the same, and it was only until she was safe and in the outside world on the ground, far from the museum did she notice that the stranger had followed her.  
  
Max then let out her fury. She lunged forward and threw her fist into the person's nose, she was going to launch a punch to the eye when an arm shot out and twisted hers, flipping her to the ground.  
  
Max moaned, concrete floor was not nice to fall onto. The stranger advanced but Max was ahead, she swung a foot behind the attacker's ankle. A body went thud as it hit the concrete floor and it was only when the intruder didn't react, did Max get up to shine her flashlight into a young man's face.  
  
He reacted abruptly; one hand clutched his bleeding nose while he threw up the other hand to shield his eyes from the light.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Max demanded.  
  
The man got up, wiping away some of his blood with his sleeve, his eyes taking in her attire.  
  
"A thief to a thief," he judged, grinning, "We're equal, why not look before you attack? I meant no harm."  
  
"That's not my style," Max said dryly, observing the stranger. Brown hair, blue eyes and a good build. 'Handsome,' Max thought, 'but street scum, just like the average rogue.' 'No harm, huh?" she added sarcastically as she inspected the bruise on her shoulder.  
  
"Your name.I didn't catch it," he said slowly.  
  
"I didn't give it," Max snapped, "And why should I?"  
  
"Well, give me some dignity, I should at least know the name of the beautiful girl who stole my steal."  
  
It was no time for flattery. "Yours?!" Max added back outraged, " That was mine!"  
  
"Yeah, and girls can kick ass."  
  
Max glared at him.  
  
He suppressed a snigger and extended a hand, "Alec."  
  
She looked dubiously at him, making him withdraw the hand. "Max .Guevara."  
  
"Nice name."  
  
"That was my diamond you know!"  
  
"You just can't make friends can you? Max?"  
  
"With 'friends' like you, who needs enemies?" came the sharp reply.  
  
"Ouch, that hurt."  
  
"Damn right it does, and so will this," Max ended the conversation by swinging around and launching a well-aimed kick to Alec's side. The boy went down.  
  
"Girls, go figure."  
  
Max grinned as she walked away, switching her flash-light off, "It was my diamond you know."  
  
  
  
A/N: I promise a lot more explaining next chapter. Heck, it's actually fun writing this! Anyway, should I continue? 


	3. Crash

Crash  
  
  
  
Title: Revisiting The Past  
  
Summary: AU. In post-Pulse Seattle, Max struggles to find her father only to find a lot more than expected. Max/Alec  
  
Pairing: Max/Alec  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that appear in Dark Angel, I only own those that I've made up  
  
Rating: PG for now  
  
Spoilers: Maybe, after all this is a AU fic  
  
Dedications: To The Hermione Granger Fan Club, for supplying me with more Dark Angel goodness.  
  
A/N: Well, after that dose of Max and Alec interaction I've given more in this chapter :). You gotta understand that I'm kinda explaining it throughout the whole chapter so bear with me here. Thanks for all your support! I rules! Anyway, the posting of this chapter was delayed due to the crash of ff.net :(. All the same, enjoy- CrashAngel  
  
  
  
Max drowned her bitter anger with a glass of beer. Just thinking of last night made her furious. That diamond was hers until he came along.  
  
Max looked around her favourite hang-out, Crash. Her friend Sketchy was there, playing foosball against some stud with a crude tattoo snaking down his bare arm. By the looks on Sketchy's face, Max could tell her friend wasn't having any luck.  
  
Max leant back into her chair, moodily. If she ever saw 'Alec' again she swore she would wring his neck. Speaking of the devil, she thought grimly as she caught a glimpse of him, as she continued looking around the room, talking to a brunette dressed skimpily enough to sever the purpose of clothing.  
  
A twinge of jealousy flickered in his heart; she ignored it as she absently folded her arms over her chest as if to stifle the feeling.  
  
"There goes the cash," Sketchy sighed as he sat down opposite Max.  
  
"Then why play for it when you're so bad?" Max grinned.  
  
Sketchy opened his mouth to protest when Original Cindy cut in.  
  
"Hey you peeps, what's going down?"  
  
"My money?" Sketchy answered.  
  
Original Cindy smacked his forehead with the back of her hand. "OC wants ta know, why Sketchy put up his dough when he can't play for toffee!"  
  
Max grinned, "That's what I said."  
  
"Hey boo! Ya get a pitcher for us?" OC asked.  
  
Max nodded, "Yeah sure." She got up to walk to the bar, leaving her two friends arguing over Sketchy's foosball skills. They were probably the only things she had in the world. After she left home she had been living on the streets, here and there. She managed to defend herself and learnt from the experienced street rogues, who took a liking to her, the art of kicking ass and nicking stuff that wasn't hers. Her learning was helped by her natural determination and her tough exterior and it wasn't soon before she was as independent as anybody could be.  
  
Then after she left them she could steal for herself. She was surprisingly fast and that helped when it came to escaping the fuzz.  
  
Before soon she grew out of stealing small stuff and she needed a proper job. After an attempt to break into her future friend's crib which went wrong, the resident- a soul-depth lesbian by the name of Original Cindy, felt sympathy and made friends. She offered a job for Jam Pony Express and her place to crash.  
  
It had all happened in an amazingly short amount of time and Max found that the protective hostility she harboured, when she had been fighting her way through life on the street, had dissolved when she was greeted with such open friendliness. Sketchy, the carefree skirt-chaser, too became a friend as a Jam Pony messenger and a regular at Crash. She smiled fondly at such memories as she approached the bar only to face a previous acquaintance.  
  
"Remember me? I think I bear the nose that you broke."  
  
"Say another word and that won't be all that's broken," Max said briskly asking for a pitcher of beer before she turned to start walking back to her table.  
  
"So.stealing's all you do for an income?" Alec asked.  
  
Max turned around and narrowed her eyes, "What does that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Well." Alec smirked, as he looked her down, her discomfort evident, "I would pay a lot for your services, Max."  
  
Max deciphered the 'little message' under his words and smacked his forehead hard before gripping a tuft of his hair making him lean backwards as she hissed into his ear. "I don't sink so low!"  
  
"Well you better get going, your 'little friends' are looking pretty worried," Alec said knowing that he might have tested her patience enough.  
  
"Fine," Max snapped before she let go.  
  
Alec sighed in relief and started smoothing down his hair.  
  
Max bit her lip to retain her composure as she walked back to the table gripping the pitcher of beer in her sturdy hand, she felt compelled to drown the smart-'alec' with it's contents but thought otherwise, he wasn't worth the effort of another trip back to the bar.  
  
"You ain't gonna introduce your boy to Original Cindy?" OC asked Max as she sat down.  
  
Max raised an eyebrow, "He isn't 'my' boy."  
  
"That's Alec, ace at foosball and a lady's man alright," Sketchy said as he gulped down a glass.  
  
"Well, OC says he's almost hot enough to make her give up liking her own kind!" Original Cindy declared as she looked towards the bar.  
  
Max followed OC's gaze and found herself looking properly at Alec who was occupied with speaking to the bartender. Last night's circumstances weren't exactly the most appropriate time for looking out for good-looking spunks. His brown hair flopped appealingly over his forehead, below he had brown- eyes that glinted with playful mischief, he had a straight nose and a smile that could melt gold. He turned to see Max staring at him and he smirked. He was the regular player like many she had encountered before. So why did he make Max feel so nervous?  
  
A/N: Review? Please? 


	4. Tryptophan Troubles

Tryptophan Troubles  
  
Title: Revisiting The Past  
  
Summary: AU. In post-Pulse Seattle, Max struggles to find her father only to find a lot more than expected. Max/Alec  
  
Pairing: Max/Alec  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that appear in Dark Angel, I only own those that I've made up  
  
Rating: PG for now  
  
Spoilers: Maybe, then again after all this is a AU fic  
  
Dedications: To The Hermione Granger Fan Club, for supplying me with more Dark Angel goodness.  
  
A/N: Hmmm, now I've injected Zack and Logan into the story. sigh complications in love I know. Anyway, I've changed the summary and yeah. I know, the action is coming along and all so it might take a while. Take note that I usually just write a chapter in a day, I know I should take longer but well I can't help it, mood swings ya know (argh lame excuse). Anyway, if you think this chapter's shabby then blame it on me cos I've been real busy. So just read-CrashAngel  
  
  
  
  
  
Foggle Towers  
  
Logan Cale sat at his computer, his eyes intently absorbing the information he had found on the net. On first glance, one could label him as a charismatic looking young man who clashed sophistication with street-style. His glasses seemed to give him an upper-class air even in his hooded anorak and baggy cargo pants. He couldn't seem to hide the fact that he was always going to be the rich boy no matter what he wore. Logan had the Cale fortune at his fingerprints and unknown to most people, he used the cash to fund his alias, Eyes Only, the crime-buster when it came to handling corrupt 'Sector Police' and Government officials. His freedom videos helped warn the public of such scum and most of the time, the issue was quickly picked up and solved. After a while, Logan finally let his hands slide from the keyboard, he was finished. With grim satisfaction he got up and pulled the hood up over his head, his hands in his pockets. The latest Freedom video was finished and it was going to be aired in ten minutes or so. Relaxed at last, he reached for his car keys on the kitchen bench and left his dig in his silver Mercedes. It cost a fortune, but then again, all pre- pulse cars did. Logan grinned, time to unwind at his favourite hang-out.  
  
Crash  
  
Logan sat down at the bar and called the bartender for a glass of beer.  
  
The bartender walked over and exclaimed, "Cale! Long time no see." He patted Logan's shoulder and handed him the beer, "Enjoy."  
  
Logan murmured a "Thanks" before he turned around. Being a solitary person, he often avoided social interaction and nothing gave him more pleasure than just observing the people in the room. Before the Pulse, he went to Yale and had achieved a master degree in psychology and medicine, but then Yale was forced to shut down.  
  
Logan sighed at the memory before he swallowed a swig of beer before he resumed his watching position. He liked to watch people interact and how they coped with different situations, then he would try to decipher what they were thinking. It was some sort of game for Logan and it amused him, at least his master degree wasn't going to waste.  
  
His eyes passed over a table where a brown-haired boy was chatting up a blonde. He rolled his eyes and then observed the pool table where a scruffy haired youth seemed to be losing to a bikie. He continued to scan the room when his gaze lingered on a corner table of the room, where a pretty brunette sat talking to her dark-skinned friend. Logan frowned, he didn't remember seeing her much but then again perhaps she spent most of her time here in the back room.  
  
He watched her with admiration and fascination. It was a surprise that she wasn't sitting with some good-looking hunk, exchanging saliva or being ogled by the rest of the male population. The bartender caught Logan staring at her and gave him a nudge.  
  
"Don't think about it Cale, she's a tough one that Max. Hot but too hot to handle," the bartender eased his collar as if to prove his statement.  
  
Logan nodded and hastily looked away, he was too old for her anyway and what did he have to offer apart from money?  
  
Suddenly the thump of a body hitting the ground sounded, making Logan turn around. Max was on the ground, twitching, her limbs moving spastically. She was having a seizure. Logan instantly sprang to his feet and to her side. Now his knowledge could come to use.  
  
"Boo, ya aiight?" Max's friend asked anxiously, she noticed Logan, "Why you staring at Original Cindy like so?"  
  
"I'm a full qualified doctor," Logan said, his eyes darting to Max, he gulped, he wasn't really lying.  
  
"Then help! My gal's having a bad spell."  
  
Logan then found himself face to face with the brown-headed boy who had been chatting up the blonde.  
  
"She needs medicine," he said white-faced.  
  
"I would never know," Logan said, injecting sarcasm into his words.  
  
The boy fumbled with something in his pockets, he seemed somewhat bewildered and determined at the same time. He finally offered Logan a bottle. "It's Tryptophan."  
  
Logan looked suspiciously at the boy, this stuff was rare and so were its users. The seizures that the pills helped decrease, were of an unusual condition.  
  
"Just give it to her," the boy snapped, agitated.  
  
Logan emptied a few into his hand before Original Cindy helped restrain Max. Then Logan prised open her lips and slipped in the pills. He gently tipped water down her throat so that the pills could reach her system. Slowly they began to take over and Max stopped twitching. Soon she was breathing properly again, she opened her eyes a little before she closed them again. Logan sighed in relief and turned to give the boy his pills back, but he had gone. Logan looked puzzled at the empty space where the boy had been before he gave Original Cindy the pills. "Just give these to her when she comes to," he said before he got up and announced to the crowd that had gathered, "There's nothing to see everybody, the actions over, nothing much, now can I get through?"  
  
The crowd parted and reluctantly went back to their seats, soon the atmosphere picked up again and all was forgotten.  
  
Logan walked outside and got into his car. There was enough excitement for tonight. At his desk Logan Cale reached for the phone on his desk as he thumbed through his list of informants  
  
********************************  
  
"You should have taken it when it was available, Max! Now that stuff's as common as the world is pretty and nice," Zack exclaimed as he sat by her bed, his callused hand clasping her smaller one.  
  
Max laughed it off and smiled fondly at the brotherly figure she had in Zack. He had been one of the street rogues that had taken an interest in her. Zack and his gang had found her having a seizure in an alleyway. She had managed okay before with the fits but the one she had when they found her was a massive one. He introduced the Trytophron to her and became her source of the pills, even after she left him and the gang. She and Zack had an immensely close bond. All the same, Zack always kept in touch and here he was, scolding her about Tytophron.  
  
"It's not funny Max," Zack said seriously, "I'll send some over when the next shipment comes."  
  
Original Cindy entered the room and smiled at Zack. "Hey, boy, Wasup?"  
  
Zack grinned back, "Hey OC, just giving Max a lecture."  
  
"Hey, that boy back there in Crash helped ya out, that whats his name? Alec yeah, got the pills, here," OC threw Max a bottle.  
  
"Who's the guy? Who's Alec?" Zack asked suspiciously.  
  
Max caught the bottle and looked up to Zack, "Oh, I don't really know myself." Sometimes Zack was so protective.  
  
"Well," Zack said somewhat reluctantly, "I've gotta go, see ya later and take care." He bent over awkwardly and kissed Max on the forehead before he exited.  
  
OC raised an eyebrow at Max, a suggestive smile lurking on her lips. Max rolled her eyes and slapped her friend on the arm.  
  
"Original Cindy's gotta blaze or Normal will be kicking her ass into the streets!"  
  
"Oh damnit! I have to go to work," Max exclaimed as she struggled to get up.  
  
Original Cindy pushed Max back into the bed, "Nuh uh, OC says you stay here, Boo! I'll explain to Normal."  
  
Max sighed and nodded.  
  
"Bye," and with that OC was gone.  
  
Max sat back up and leant against the wall. She hated doing nothing.  
  
Then the phone rang.  
  
A/N: Cliffhanger? Sigh, not really, but guess who's phoning and I'll dedicate the next chapter to you. :P All the same, you better review, you see I've got this pet called Ego and I feed it my reviews. So when he's hungry I feel crappy. When he's full then I'm happy. See, the system works out! Anyway, stop being parasitic. I write. You read. You review. I write...... And so on, a lovely cycle eh? Should I continue? 


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